Dont Cha
by asphaltcowgrrl
Summary: Third in the Wes in a Dress series. Follows I Feel Pretty/Unpretty and You and I. Wherein Wes decides it's high time to pay Travis back for all his enabling.


"You headed home?" Wes looked up at his partner standing beside his desk, catching him before he could leave.

"Yeah, I have a stop to make and then crashing for the night. You got any plans?" Wes wasn't sure if that was hope in Travis' eyes or just the fluorescent lights reflecting weirdly in them.

He shook his head, a half smile playing on his lips. "Do I ever? Just home, dinner, bed. This week has been brutal."

"That it has been," Travis commiserated. "See you in the morning then?"

"Tomorrow," Wes lied, his plan for surprising Travis solidifying by the moment. That he had an errand to run after work was just a bonus. "Until then."

He'd been thinking for a week or more now that he needed to do something for Travis, something special, for not just accepting his little uh, dressing quirk, but for also enabling the habit. The dress he'd bought had been perfect – fit right, looked great, and had the added bonus of turning Travis on like a light switch. And the unexpected thoughtfulness Travis had exhibited – even if it was only to get himself laid – had turned _him _on.

Travis obviously wasn't done with him yet either. Starting two days after the whole blue dress incident – how he had begun to think of that night – Travis had started leaving clippings from magazines and flyers in inconspicuous places for him to find. A pretty sundress here, a full-length formal there. And then there were the costumes. A cowgirl. A cheerleader. That naughty nurse outfit he kept finding stuffed everywhere.

Wes had decided on something a little more classic.

His cheeks warmed at the thought of what he had stashed in the trunk of his car. After an hour in a local costume shop, he'd finally found the perfect treat for his new lover, something that was guaranteed to pique both his interest and his libido. He remembered how hard his cock had gotten when he found it, the deciding factor that this indeed was the perfect way to pay Travis back.

Double checking to make sure Travis hadn't arrived back at his trailer yet, Wes let himself inside. Just as he'd given Travis the spare keycard to his hotel room, his partner had given him a key to his trailer, too. Although Travis hadn't ever designated it as an 'only-if-I'm-in-the-hospital-dying-and-maybe-not-even-then' key, this would be Wes' first time using it. He grinned at the thought.

Locking the door behind him, Wes stripped to his boxers and then, after a second of thought, discarded them as well. Stealing a hanger from Travis' wannabe closet, he hung his suit and accessories as best he could. Keeping them out of sight made him feel like the illusion was a bit more real. Turning back to the box he'd carted in with him, he pulled out a scrap of black faux silk, trimmed in pink. He shook out the costume and stared at it, suddenly wondering if this was going a bit far.

"Fuck, Mitchell," he scolded himself. "Really? Now you're worried about going too far? You're already screwing your partner while wearing women's clothes. What's a little role-play after all of that?"

Emboldened, he donned the cheap fabric dress that had cost him a small fortune and pulled it down over his hips. Even as un-hippy as he was, it fit snugly over his less than stellar curves. "How the hell do women wear this stuff?"

Grumbling aside, he was impressed with himself. The lace up bustier cinched up against his chest just enough to not be floppy and the little white semi-apron gave just the right amount of color. Wes toyed with the pink polka dotted lace edging along the hem of the dress, thinking that that would be what drove Travis insane. He could almost picture his partner's hands entangled in it as he fucked him silly.

"Good lord," he growled, desire overriding his better sense. "You keep thinking along those lines and you'll never get the fishnet stockings on."

Slipping them on, he managed to wriggle his ass into the stockings and get them settled. He was getting better at this, he noticed, stockings had always been the bane of his cross-dressing existence. In the bottom of the box he found the finishing touches to his outfit – a black and pink garter, a strip of gauzy white lace for his hair, and the crowning touch: a feather duster, complete with pink feathers.

Wes was just slipping into his new black Mary Janes when he heard Travis' motorcycle pull up outside the trailer. Grabbing the feather duster, Wes positioned himself near the entrance, bent over and began dusting.

Travis jiggled his key in the lock until the door swung open. Griping under his breath about the traffic, he threw his jacket onto his bed, turned and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Well, hello dolly," he praised. "I know I didn't order a maid service, but you can guarantee I'm not sending you back until I'm through with you."

Wes wiggled his ass playfully. Travis molded himself against his partner's firm backside, struggling to find any iota of control he might have left.

"You told me you were going home and going to bed," he reminded Wes, nibbling along the length of exposed neck.

"I did," he confirmed, turning in Travis' embrace. "But I didn't say where I was going to bed, did I?" He fluttered his golden lashes, flirting.

He allowed his hands to wander across Wes' ass, finding their way under the French Maid's dress. Hooking his fingers through the fishnet, he grunted hungrily. "You really are trying to kill me, aren't you?"

Wes lifted the pink feather duster and tickled Travis' nose with it. "Of course not, who would I have to dress up for if I committed carnal homicide?"

He snagged the feather duster out of his lover's hand. Turning it over in his grip, he grinned broadly. "Now this is a fun little thing. I can think of at least seven uses off the top of my head."

"Only seven?" Wes squirmed out of Travis' hold, moving towards the kitchen. "I can think of at least thirteen."

He cleared his throat, following Wes into the kitchen. "Maybe I should get you naked and we can compare notes?"

"Hmmm," he stalled. "It's been a while since I've been here and I thought your place might need a good cleaning. Looks like I was right."

"And is that why you chose the French maid outfit, out of everything else I suggested?" His tongue slipped out of his mouth and wetted his bottom lip.

"Every occasion has its preferred outfit," he informed Travis. "Every girl knows that."

"Well, I'll just have to defer to your expertise on that, won't I?" He couldn't take his eyes off Wes.

In this outfit, Wes was all long legs and bare skin and it was more than he could handle. That Wes' erection was tenting out the front of the already tight dress didn't help matters any, for the record. The little frill of lace edging the bottom of the dress drew his attention and he rubbed it between two fingers. He wasn't sure if it was him or Wes, but someone made a desperate noise just then.

Travis' money was on himself.

He never would have imagined how a man in a woman's guise could make him so insatiably horny, but something about Wes when he dressed like this pushed every button he had. Travis attributed most of it to the change in his attitude more than anything, but he couldn't deny that the boy had some nice legs. This more relaxed and flirty Wes was exactly what he needed after a week from hell.

"I want to do bad, bad things to you in this getup, baby," he said, voice strained.

Wes cocked a hip and twirled his feather duster. "Why do you think I'm here, sir?"

Travis' Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Wes's heart pounded, wondering if he'd yet again crossed a line he shouldn't have. Knowing his partner, however, that little slip of the tongue – calling him 'sir' – would have the desired effect. There was nothing Travis loved more than being the boss. And hell, he was already dressed as a maid, why not play it up? "When you hired me, you told me my job would entail much more than cleaning. I've been waiting a long time to see just what 'much more' implied."

The expression on Travis' face at that admission was almost Wes' undoing. That look of raw need made him want to drop to his knees and take his _boss_ deep into his mouth, swallowing him whole. Working on instinct, he knelt in front of his partner turned lover and reached for his belt buckle. "You want me to start here?" He pressed the palm of his hand against Travis' bulging cock.

Nodding, he eked out one word. "Please."

With deft fingers, Wes unlatched Travis' belt. Fumbling with the button on his jeans, he popped it open and tugged until the zipper opened fully. He took Travis' cock into his hand, stroking slowly, measuring every inch with the tips of his fingers.

"Baby if you don't suck me in the next few seconds, you are not going to like what happens next."

Wes was inclined to disagree. If torturing Marks landed him with his face in the floor and his ass in the air, he was relatively certain he wouldn't be begging for mercy. To the contrary, he had it on good authority that he'd be screaming his continuing encouragement. However, he knew that being _too_ willing didn't always work to your advantage, so he played along.

The tip of his tongue caressed the head of Travis' erection, prompting a gasp of approval from him. Encouraged, Wes flicked his tongue against the ridge at the base of the swollen head. Travis thrust his hips forward, just a subtle suggestion to move things along. Wes knew he should be annoyed by Travis' continual pushiness but this time, it only made him smile. The feel of the steely soft skin sliding across his cheek turned his insides upside down.

He took control of Marks' cock with one hand. Opening his mouth, he took him inside, angling his approach so that he could get as much of Travis inside him as possible. Admittedly, he was a bit out of practice with this, but as they say, old habits die hard. It took a moment of adjustment and before long, he had his partner balls deep in his throat.

Travis worked his hips forward and back, using Wes for his own pleasure. He let him have his fun, assured that when his time came, Travis would take very good care of him. Coffee colored fingers worked their way into his short hair, gripping tight. An amused chuckled followed shortly after. He flicked his blue eyes up to meet Travis', questioning without words.

Unable to speak, Travis rocked his cock farther into Wes' mouth before tugging on the slip of lace he'd tied into his blond tufts. Smiling around the mouthful, he understood that all his little accessories were appreciated.

"Mmmm, Wes honey," he whimpered, "as wonderful as this is, I want you, now. If I'm gonna come, it's not going to be in your mouth."

Although he had once threatened to come all over his face, Wes remembered, wondering how that pearly accoutrement would look with his outfit. He only barely stifled the laugh that trailed that thought. Laughing right now would only get him into trouble. Reluctantly, he released Travis' cock from between his lips, reaching out and kissing his hardness as it bobbed before his nose. He placed his hands primly on his thighs, looking up for further instruction.

He looked down at his partner at his feet, on his knees, mouth rouged with the afterglow of the blowjob he'd just given. Wes' sapphire eyes were wide and waiting. Travis knew that Wes was playing into the role, but it stirred something inside him that he'd never felt before. Wes, the controlling asshole that he was, was letting him take the reins. And not just for the first time – every time they've been together, it's been like this. It made him wonder… but he'd ponder that revelation later. Like after he'd given the little blond a good fuck or seven.

"Stand up, pretty girl, and give me a kiss." He held his hand out and helped Wes rise to his feet.

Wes draped his arms around Travis' neck, opening his mouth and receiving his tongue this time, sucking it into his mouth like he had other body parts. Travis ran his hands down the length of Wes' back, gripping his ass with both palms.

"I need to fuck you right now," Travis growled, breaking away from the kiss.

Tightening his grip around Travis' neck, forcing their bodies flat against each other. Wes lifted a leg and hooked his heel on his lover's hip. Travis' fingers trailed along the exposed flesh of his calf before circling back to Wes' backside, gripping and lifting him upwards. Eagerly, Wes wrapped both legs around Travis' waist, holding tightly as he carried him towards the bed, kissing him hungrily as they staggered through the small trailer.

Reaching the edge of his bed, Travis dropped Wes onto the mattress roughly. There was nothing gentle about what he had in mind for his little hellion tonight. Like he'd said earlier, their week had been brutal – two murders and an attempted robbery was more than enough. They both needed a little hardcore something to work it all out.

"Shoes off," Wes asked, waggling a foot in Travis' line of vision.

One at a time, he popped the chunky black heels off Wes' feet and tossed them to the floor out of the way. "Hips up, baby," he commanded, voice kind but stern.

Like the well trained woman he was, Wes lifted his hips and allowed Travis to first fondle his aching cock through the front of the fishnet stockings, and then remove them completely. Quickly, Travis stripped the stockings from Wes' legs, tossing them over his shoulder. They will not be needed for a very long time, if he had his way.

Skimming his fingers along the tops of Wes' thighs, Travis breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of arousal wafting off his lover's skin. It wasn't helping him gain any measure of control, however, instead only making him crazier with need. Wes lifted a foot and poked at the v of bare skin peeking out between the flaps of his open fly. Grabbing that foot, Travis lifted it to his mouth, placing a loud kiss against the pale instep.

"You are in so much trouble, baby," he said. Wes simply grinned.

He pushed his jeans to the floor, kicking them off and discarding them as quickly as possible. His aching cock stuck out, eagerly seeking his lover's warm body. Travis gripped one lean calf tightly, savoring the feel of the sleek muscle beneath Wes' smooth skin momentarily. Eagerly, he lifted the long leg and anchored its ankle over his shoulder. His cock pressed against Wes' ass, begging.

"Is this what you meant by 'much more than cleaning, Mr. Marks? Because if it is, I think I might be able to handle this."

"I sure as fuck hope so," he growled, rubbing his thick length along Wes' round buttocks again.

In response, Wes reached for the shelf behind his head and procured a hefty plastic tube. Tossing it at Travis, he said, "Is that a subtle enough hint for you?"

It wasn't subtle by any means – tossing lube at a horny ass man was a blatant invitation – but Travis took it for what it was meant to be. Wes didn't generally have a gentle bone in his body, but when it came to Travis' overly large ego, he tended to take a softer approach. He squirted a measure of the lube into his palm and proceeded to slather it along the length of his cock.

In eager anticipation, Wes lifted his hips towards Travis, digging his heel into his lover's shoulder. "Please Travis, I've been waiting for this since I bought this damn outfit. I can't wait any longer."

Who was he to deny his baby anything he wanted? Not that Travis was ever one to deny _any_one pleasure, but especially not his Wes, not when he was so needy and ready.

Wes grunted his acquiescence while Travis gripped his hips tightly, slowly filling him with his cock. Even if they hadn't had a week from hell, Travis couldn't imagine anything better than what they had right that second. His lover's body gripped him tightly, squeezing the last ounces of Travis' restraint out through his dick.

He'd known from the moment he spotted Wes dressed as a maid, dusting his coffee table that their interaction tonight was going to be one frantic ride. Lucky that Wes liked a hard fuck now and then, he didn't bat an eyelash when his slow, even strokes became wild, reckless thrusts. Wes' grunts morphed into mewling whimpers, encouraging Travis' erratic roughness. Wes' hand twitched, moving towards his own cock, hesitated and re-fisted itself into the sheets.

"Aw baby," Travis crooned, "don't hold back, not for me. I'm so damn close already." The pink tip of his tongue darted out, curling up to touch his upper lip in askance. Wes' eyes begged for confirmation and Travis couldn't resist giving it to him. "Yeah, give yourself what you need."

Travis bent forward, bending his lover's body in ways that only a regular yoga practice made possible, flipping up the frilly, lace-edged skirt of his costume, giving them both a better view of Wes' straining cock. Driven by frantic need, Wes gripped his erection in one hand, stroking in time with Travis' thrusts. Eyes fixed on Wes' pumping fist, Travis tightened his grip on his ass, hastening his already anxious pace.

"Trav," Wes spluttered, back arching as he exploded across his stomach, hot stickiness covering his skin.

"Hell yeah, baby," Travis encouraged him, slamming roughly into him, bringing his own orgasm to the brink. "Just how I like you, exhausted and covered in spunk."

Encouraged by his own words, Travis slapped his hips against Wes' ass once, then twice, before pulling roughly out. Angling his hips upward, he shot his own brand of messy sweetness onto Wes' stomach, watching it mix and mingle with what was already there.

"Fuck," Travis grunted, steadying himself with a hand against Wes' chest. "I think I owe you a raise."

Tickling Travis' cheek with his toe, Wes simply laughed. "I think you owe me more than a raise, Marks."

"Oh," he asked, surprised. "And what more do I owe you?"

Wes tore his eyes from Travis' stormy depths. Idly, his finger drew patterns in the mess covering his skin, mingling his own excitement with that of his lover. Surprisingly unconcerned with exactly how unhygienic it was, he continued dragging his finger from his belly button up to his sternum and back down, biding his time. What he wanted, he couldn't ask for. This – whatever it really was between them – wasn't serious. It was he and his partner having a little fun – albeit quite messy fun tonight.

He sighed, a heavy lifting and deflating of his chest. "You owe me something pretty, Marks," he said instead of what he wanted to request. Maybe Travis would figure it out, maybe he wouldn't, but he'd deal with that later.

"Something pretty," Travis repeated, thinking. "Hmm. Another dress? Or something sparkly this time?" He removed Wes' ankle from his shoulder, gently resting his leg back on the bed. Falling onto the mattress beside him, he snuggled up to his partner's side. "Or am I supposed to guess?"

Wes gave a nervous shrug. "It's up to you, Travis. Whatever you come up with will be more than enough." He forced himself to meet Travis' gaze, hoping that he was convincing enough to fool him.

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured. "I doubt that, fallen into that trap with one too many ex's. Not that I think you're like that," he quickly clarified. "How about we make a deal?"

Wes waited, letting his silence serve as agreement for now.

"I do my best and you tell me – honestly, damn you, don't you dare lie to me either – how I did. If I do good, we celebrate. If I screw up which, let's be real, is always the greater possibility, we work on it. Deal?"

Wes bit his bottom lip, thinking. It was a good suggestion, even coming from Travis. They could definitely work with something like this. It could eventually turn out to be a lot of fun, even with Travis' penchant for doing and saying the wrong things. Maybe a deal was the way to go? Only one way he would ever find out. "Deal."

"Deal," Travis agreed. "Now, gimme a kiss so I can clean you up and get you dirty all over again."

Laughing, Wes captured Travis' mouth with his own. Maybe eventually he'd be able to tell Travis exactly what he wanted, but tonight wasn't the night. And honestly, he was okay with that. For now.


End file.
